Page 44 of Unwrapped By the Grumpy Mountain Man
"That's not the point," he snaps. "You should be here, not shacking up with that hooligan."
I close my eyes briefly. "He's my husband, Dad. And his name is Hudson."
"Husband," he scoffs. "We both know what that is. A business deal. You think he actually cares about you? You're just a convenience to him."
The words sting more than they should, echoing my own fears.
"You're being unfair," I say quietly. "Hudson has been nothing but good to me."
"Good to you?" Dad laughs harshly. "He's using you, Violet. And when he gets what he wants, he'll toss you aside like yesterday's trash. Then where will you be?"
I open my mouth to respond, but a deep voice from the doorway cuts me off.
"That's enough."
Hudson stands there, his expression thunderous. I hadn't heard him come in.
"Excuse me?" Dad sputters.
"I said that's enough." Hudson steps into the room, his voice low and deadly. "You don't get to speak to her that way. Not in my house. Not anywhere."
"This isn't your business?—"
"My wife is absolutely my business," Hudson interrupts. "And since you seem confused about a few things, let me clear them up. Violet is not a convenience. She's not being used. She's an incredible woman who deserves respect, especially from her father."
Dad falls silent, clearly not expecting this.
"Violet has been taking care of you for years," Hudson continues. "Cleaning your house, cooking your meals, making sure bills get paid. And instead of gratitude, you give her guilt. That stops now."
"Hudson," I whisper, overwhelmed by his defense.
He glances at me, his expression softening slightly before turning back to the phone. "Violet will visit when she chooses to. She'll help when she wants to. But she is not responsible for your wellbeing, and I won't let you make her feel like she is."
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Dad demands.
"I'm the man who sees your daughter's worth," Hudson replies simply. "It's a shame you don't."
He reaches over and ends the call, the room falling silent except for the distant sounds of the girls settling down in their rooms.
"I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "I shouldn't have interfered. But the way he was talking to you..."
"No one's ever done that before," I say, my voice barely audible.
"Done what?"
"Stood up for me like that."
Something flashes in Hudson's eyes—anger, sadness, determination. He crosses to me in two long strides, taking my hands in his much larger ones.
"Violet, listen to me. You deserve better than how he treats you. You deserve to be valued, appreciated, respected. Not just for what you do for others, but for who you are."
"And who do you think I am, Hud?" I ask, genuinely curious about how he sees me.
"You're kind without being weak. Strong without being hard. You see the best in people, even when they don't deserve it. You make this house feel like a home. You've brought my daughters joy and comfort in just a few days." His voice softens. "You're remarkable, Goldie."
Tears prick my eyes. "Hud..."
He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle. "I know this started as an arrangement. But I need you to know that whatever happens between us, I see you. All of you. And you are worth far more than you've been led to believe."
